


Let Me Be Your Wings

by quillquiver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Disney AU, Fairy!Dean, Fluff, Love Confession, M/M, Making Out, Thumbelina - Freeform, cuteness, tiny!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillquiver/pseuds/quillquiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was once a beautiful young woman, who, more than anything in the world, wished for a child. She was barren, you see, and her husband was constantly away and travelling as often merchants do. The beautiful young woman, Eve, was lonely. She prayed for a child every night. (Thumbelina AU; Tiny!Cas, Faerie!Dean)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Be Your Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Thumbelina!AU based off of [this post](http://thekingslover.tumblr.com/post/75857865463/thumbelina-au-has-this-been-done-oh-well-where).  
> (tiny!Cas, faerie!Dean)
> 
> Also on [tumblr](http://quillquiver.tumblr.com/post/75922971698/thumbelina-au-based-off-of-this-post-tiny-cas)

 

There was once a beautiful young woman, who, more than anything in the world, wished for a child. She was barren, you see, and her husband was constantly away and travelling as often merchants do. The beautiful young woman, Eve, was lonely. 

She prayed for a child every night.

One day, she was walking through town and saw and old beggar lady. Providing her with food, the crone pressed a seed into Eve’s hand with a smile, telling her to care for the plant as if it were her own, to love it unconditionally.

Eve did. 

Every morning, she would coo at the contents of the flowerpot, kissing its closed flower and stroking its green leaves before giving it water. She repeated this ritual for weeks, until one day, with the rise of the sun, her pressed kiss to a gorgeous purple bud caused the flower to open.

A small figure lay its golden middle, tiny body naked and covered in pollen as she gasped, tears springing to her eyes. Amazed, Eve reached out a finger, elegant appendage soft stroking over a delicate body as the being lifted it’s head, blinking tiredly.

He was beautiful. A dark mess of hair tangled atop his head and he had sapphires for eyes, their brightness and colour ethereal. But perhaps most impressive were his wings. They were large compared to his small body, inky blue against dark purple flower petals and boasted the tiniest, softest feathers the young woman had ever seen. “Oh, my miracle,” Eve breathed with a watery smile. “My angel: Castiel.”

And so Castiel was his name.

 

***  
Life was difficult when you were so small. While Castiel loved his mother dearly, and the world he had been brought into was nothing short of magnificent, the tiny being often felt awkward and out of place in its wide expanse. He couldn’t get into any of the cupboards if he was hungry, nor could he properly use… well, anything really. Eve modified it all for him. It made Castiel feel incredibly guilty; that she’d done so much and yet never be able to truly hug him or kiss his cheek, or that caring for her when she was old and grey would be a near impossibility due to his size.

He’d tried to fly once, twice, three times… But no matter much he stretched them, and attempted to do more than go a couple of feet, Castiel would tumble to the ground. He didn’t understand why his wings didn’t work, only that they were useless at his back, and got ruffled very quickly. He hated them in their impracticality, especially because grooming was always difficult. He was much too small for his mother to help without hurting him. And so, the tiny being spent most of his days wandering around the garden or in the library; almost killing himself in his attempt to open heavy tomes.

Eve had taught Castiel to read.

“Mother, would you tell me a story?”

But sometimes, it was nice to simply listen.

“What would you like to hear?”

“Something different,” the little being requested through a yawn. “Unengaging. Romance, perhaps?”

Eve clucked her tongue once, brows pulling together in thought before she snapped her fingers in triumph, reaching for a novel. “Here we are: Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a Faerie Prince…”

Castiel was enthralled. Were there really others like him? Other people the size of the average human thumb? It seemed wildly improbable at best. After all, if there were other flower children, what were the chances any of them were within a reasonable distance for attempting communication? “Mother, have you ever met a faerie?”

Eve smiled, though the thing soon turned sad on her face. “No, Sweetling… Not yet. But that does not mean they do not exist.”

Castiel kept his eyes firmly trained on the page, eyes roving over pictures of tiny people in crowns and fancy dress, their large, gorgeous wings so different from his. Where he had dark feathers, they had sparkling transparent matter, like a dragonfly but more colourful and beautiful. Even if they did exist, who was to say that they would not view him as an abomination?

“Oh Castiel, my love,” Eve said softly, a tip of her finger moving to lift his chin. “Do not despair. You are not alone in this world, I am sure of it.”

Castiel gave his mother’s face a passing look and couldn’t help but disagree. No, he thought, an inexplicable sadness tightening in his gut. I am was the only one my size.

But the dark-haired being gave his quirk of a smile, closing his eyes as his mother placed a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you,” she murmured. “With all my heart.”

“I love you, too, Mother.”

“Don’t stay up too late, all right?”

He watched as she left, stepping in front of the makeshift mirror by his window as he observed himself: dark hair, blue eyes, ineffectual black wings, fairly rumpled white shirt and loose navy pants, his feet perpetually bare… He looked tired, he thought, and certainly not like a faerie. He was nowhere close to their delicate beauty. Not that it mattered anyway; faeries were fictional.

Which honestly, was okay. This way, Castiel didn’t have to worry about socializing. He could spend his days in his wonderful cocoon of solitude, comfortable and safe. He was not enthusiastic about people to begin with, so not having them his size… it wasn’t so much of a drawback as just curiously disappointing. For some reason, Castiel felt lonely.

“Shitshitshitshitshit…”

Something hit his window.

Immediately, Castiel hid behind the book at his bedside, tucking his wings tightly against his back as he held his breath, baby blues widening when he heard something push its way through the opened crack of his window.

Taking a deep breath, the tiny being forced himself to take a peek over the spine of the book, gritting his teeth when he saw nothing. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and he briefly thought to call for his mother, but then remembered that there was no way she’d be able to hear him. So, Castiel did what any logical person would do in that situation: he crawled over to the pincushion at the corner of the desk, and pulled out a needle. Brandishing it like a sword, the blue-eyed being narrowed his eyes, stance confident and wings extended like in the stories despite the fact that his insides were trembling.

That’s when he heard the whistle.

It was low and impressed, and Castiel jolted the needle towards the sound without a second thought, ears picking up an indignant ‘Hey!’ as he swiped at the air again and again, barely seeing in his haste to protect himself.

“Jesus! Cool it, Rambo!”

Castiel stopped.

“Thank you. Christ.”

Hovering before him was a faerie. Beautiful with his sun-kissed, golden skin and sandy hair, Castiel felt his arm drop limp, his eyes widening as he observed a straight nose and strong jaw, mouth prefect and pink against high cheekbones. His eyes were sparkling green gems in his face, their colour and playfulness unparalleled as they observed him in return, a delicate brow arching at the faerie landed with a soft ‘thump’.

Oh, his wings were gorgeous; shimmering gold and white and elegant against his back. His bare back, as the faerie wore no shirt. He was clad in pants that cut off just before his knees, the material a deep green embroidered with different swirling patterns of gold. Atop his head sat a delicate looking crown of the same yellow, its design one of flowers and leaves with tiny gems inlayed into the metal, one slightly pointed ear hidden from where it had fallen lopsided. His feet were bare, but his forearms were covered in odd bracelets, a single amulet hanging from his neck.

And the best part? He was only an iota taller than Castiel himself.

The needle clattered to the floor.

“You… You’re…”

“ _Me_?” the faerie asked, incredulous. “You’ve got-” He made some sort of vague motion to his back, wings fluttering delicately to try and make his point. Castiel understood. Quickly, he tucked his own wings away again, stepping back in alarm when the faerie stepped forward in protest.

“No, don’t-” The faerie paused, their eyes locked. “Woah,” he breathed, awed smile turning into a smirk. He stepped forward again, hands up in a peaceful gesture as he approached Castiel, the dark-haired being tense and nervous and he eyed the faerie warily.

It touched him. Pressing a palm to Castiel’s cheek, the other being bit his lip, hand sliding to his chest before yet again falling to his side. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

Castiel blushed wildly. “Castiel,” he replied stiffly.

“Well, Castiel, you’re kind of adorable.”

Castiel blushed harder.

“I’m Dean,” the faerie offered with a charming grin.

“Dean,” Castiel repeated, a smile forming on his lips. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“You’re a… faerie?”

“Since I was born,” Dean answered. “But my wings are nowhere near as cool as yours.”

“Oh,” Castiel breathed stupidly. He was completely overwhelmed. It was one thing to have some misconstrued, far off hope that other tiny people existed… It was another to be standing face to face with one. One who, apparently, enjoyed making others blush.

And blush, Castiel did.

His entire body was flushed and warm and just couldn’t look away from Dean and his gorgeous eyes. All his life he’d spent his time scoffing at romance novels because he couldn’t understand them; how was it possible to fall in love with someone at all, let alone in an evening? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t a concept Castiel had been capable of grasping.

He thought that he understood it a little bit better now.

“Can I, uh… touch ‘em? Your wings, I mean.” Dean asked bashfully, a light pink dusting his own cheeks. “You can say ‘no’. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Castiel pondered this. Nobody, other than himself and his mother, had ever touched the inky black masses at his back, and even then, Eve had only over run her finger across them in what she’d hoped had been a comforting gesture. “Yes,” Castiel said, albeit a little shaky. “May I… touch yours?”

Dean nodded, his cheeks turning a darker red as Castiel observed him with sharp interest, extending a hand and a wing in unison. His fingers brushed a smooth, hard surface as he stood with Dean, bodies close but not touching. It felt like a beetle shell. Infinitely more delicate and cool to the touch, Dean’s wings felt smooth and sent tingles up Castiel’s spine, his lip parting in surprise. “Yeah,” Dean said breathlessly. “They, um, they’ve got—  _fuck_.”

“I’m sorry.” Castiel’s hand dropped to his side, his ears flaming with embarrassment as he looked down, stepping away. “The last thing I meant was to harm you,” he babbled. “I swear, I-”

“Hey hey,” Dean said softly, his own ears just as pink. “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me. It felt… It was good. I liked it.” He approached Castiel slowly then, the other watching nervously as Dean wrapped an around his waist, tugging them flush. Castiel’s eyes widened but he made no move to pull away, and Dean gave him every opportunity to. “You can keep going, if you want,” the faerie said warm and low, voice like butter against the shell of Castiel’s ear. “I’d like it if you did.”

Castiel exhaled shakily. “O-Oh.”

Dean smirked, lips brushing the other’s cheek as he pressed a ghost of a kiss to the smooth skin there. “Yeah, Cas,  _oh_.”

Castiel acknowledged the nickname with a flutter of his heart, hands moving to grip Dean’s shoulders tightly.

“Can I..?” the faerie asked.

“Yes.”

Castiel spread his wings, breath hitching as Dean ran his fingers over dark primary feathers, not daring to do anything else but lightly touch.

Until he felt the feathers at the base of Cas’ right wing. He only barely touched the out of place plume but Castiel hissed in pain all the same, blushing and looking away from Dean as he composed himself. The faerie frowned, hesitantly reaching back to dig his fingers into the soft black mass, straightening and stroking and watching feathers float to the floor. Castiel sighed in relief, unable to stop himself from burying his face in Dean’s neck, arms draped haphazardly about his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed.

“Don’t mention it,” the faerie replied kindly. “I can do the other one, too, if you wanna sit somewhere.”

And that’s how Dean spent the evening grooming Castiel’s wings.

“So, nobody to do this for you?” Dean had asked casually at one point, fingers sifting through primary feathers.

Cas had shaken his head. “My mother is a normal-sized human,” he’d explained. “It’s just the two of us here.”

“So, like, no girlfriend...” Dean leaned forward, breath ghosting the back of Castiel’s neck. “Or boyfriend…” He scooted forward, groin practically flush against Castiel back. “Or any other type of friend?”

“N-No,” the dark-haired being breathed. “I’ve never- I never knew there were others my size.”

Dean could see Cas’ blush paint the nape of his neck. He grinned, nudging the area with his nose as he smiled playfully, humming in thought. “Well, now you know.”

“Do you?” Castiel asked quickly, the words tumbling rushed from his mouth.

“Do I what?”

“Have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” Cas had tacked on the last question like a quick afterthought, his heart pounding and face flushing and body overall out of his control. They were odd, these feelings, but definitely not unpleasant. Castiel only hoped he didn’t sound like too much of an uneducated idiot… Which was odd in and of itself, as he’d never cared for the opinions of others before.

“Nah, I’m flyin’ solo,” Dean said easily, untangling another mess of feathers. “But… I don’t have to be.”

“I see.”

“With that tone,” the faerie teased, “I’m not sure you do.”

That was the end of that conversation.

But it was by no means the end of the evening.

They talked about everything; stars, books, the Universe; absent fathers and love for their mothers. Dean said Mary had been beautiful and wonderful and kind, and Castiel had absolutely no doubt in his mind that she had been. Mostly because Dean was beautiful and wonderful and kind. He’d told this to the faerie, who had looked on in absolute amazement, like he couldn’t believe somebody was uttering those words when he didn’t believe them himself.

Because Dean didn’t. There were people who told them how handsome he was on a daily basis; those who tried to court him or gain his favour… But Castiel had no idea who he was, and the tone of his voice was so earnest that Dean almost broke from the truth of it. “Thanks, Cas,” he’d replied lamely. “You’re pretty awesome yourself.”

Apparently, Dean hated the smell of roses, but adored dandelions, and he had a younger brother named Sam with whom his sun rose and set. He was a prince. Dean’s father was named John, and once Mary passed on, he was never the same. Dean told stories of gruesome hunts and even grislier victories, of how John wanted his sons to be survivors. Sam and John often didn’t see eye to eye, and Dean explained that he’d crashed into Cas’ window while on a ride to simply get away from their arguing. He’d met some unfriendly visitors on his way, however, and his bumble, Pala, had thrown him at the last minute, buzzing off somewhere nearby to keep him safe. Dean had no doubt she’d soon return.

Then wings came up. Embarrassed, Castiel had admitted that his were ineffectual; useless things on his back only good for mild gliding. He had been prepared for Dean to shun in him disgust then, but the faerie had only set to grooming with newfound fervor and delicateness, praising the dark masses at Castiel’s back with a reverence the blue-eyed being could barely understand.

“Do you want to?”

“Sorry?”

“Do you want to fly?”

“Well, I- yes, of course, but-”

“Come with me.”

Dean held on tightly, arms encircling Castiel’s waist as his face buried into the crook of his neck and Pala went faster and faster, wind whipping against Cas’ face as the dark-haired being vibrated with excitement, laughing deep and happy and full.

Dean decided he wanted Cas to laugh all the time.

Castiel discovered he loved flying.

He slipped from Pala’s back, black wings tucked into his back as he stroked the bumblebee with a soft smile, her vibrating ticklish against his palms. “Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said softly, sincerely. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Kiss me.” And it was out without Dean’s permission, but the words hung in the air like some sort of deflating balloon. The faerie pasted on an easy grin. He’d wanted to kiss Castiel since the guy had looked at him, blue eyes wide and lips parted in awe, but not because Cas felt he had to. “Sorry, that was… that was a mistake. You don’t have to-”

“Was it?” Castiel asked, tone nothing but curious as he relaxed from his previously tensed position. “A mistake?”

The way Cas was looking at him made Dean’s heart knock against his ribs fast as a hummingbird. “No,” the faerie said slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”

Cas nodded, stepping up to the fae as he licked his lips nervously, leaning forward with an almost business-like attitude as he pressed their mouths together. He was stiff and awkward, but Dean knew how to fix that. Gently, he pulled Castiel flush against his chest, one hand moving to tangle in dark hair while the other played against the other’s back. Dean sighed.

Slowly, Cas began to unwind. He was by no means completely pliant, but the blue-eyed being released some of the tension from his shoulders, wings wrapping around them both as they moved seemingly of their own accord, one hand holding tightly to Dean’s forearms while his other arm encircled the faerie’s shoulders, pressing them more tightly together. “Mmmph.”

Dean grinned, tongue pushing out to lick at Castiel’s bottom lip as the other being jumped in surprise, pulling away flushed and flustered as he swallowed thickly, looking from Dean’s eyes to his mouth rapidly. “Was that… adequate?”

“Adeq- Cas, that- yeah. Yeah, that was more than adequate.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. “Good.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a long time.

“Do you think,” Cas started nervously. “I mean, would you be opposed to possibly… Perhaps we could-”

Dean pecked his mouth sweetly, pulling back with a playful grin. “I think so.”

Castiel didn’t know how much time they spent kissing, but it was long enough for his legs to grow tired and his mouth to feel swollen and numb, his body revving for more and more and more and more. He pulled away when he felt a sharp bout of pleasure hit him where Dean’s hand had brushed his groin, sparks shooting up his spine to tingle at the back of his head and at his cheekbones. “D-Dean…”

It felt so different than touching himself. Not that Dean was actually touching bare skin, but for some reason, the knowledge that it was somebody else, that it was  _Dean_ , made everything different.

It was terrifying.

Abruptly, Cas pulled away, reaching out for the faerie before he realized what he was doing and pushed the hand down. “Dean, I can’t- I’m sorry-”

Because it felt so good and he wanted it so bad but it was  _too much_. He wasn’t- it was too much. Maybe after some practice, maybe when he’d gotten used to the shortness of breath and the blood rushing in ears they could- but not now. Not when it was all so new.

Castiel turned his back, wings encircling his body as he waited, with baited breath, to hear Dean leave.

Dean did no such thing.

“Hey,” the fae said softly, hand touching his lower back lightly. “Cas, you got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused when the wings didn’t open, palms pressing entirely against his companion’s thin shirt. “Castiel, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. I don’t- All this other stuff, I don’t really care about it.”

Cas turned around then, raising a brow as his wings once again tucked behind his back. “You’re lying.”

“Fine. Maybe I like kissing you. Maybe I want to kiss you all day long; touch you, and taste you and…” The faerie had managed to gather Castiel in his arms, breathing out the words as intimately as a lover would, his tone soft and secret. “And maybe I want to love you, completely and fully and until you can’t remember your name. Maybe… maybe I  _do_ love you. But Cas, if any of that makes you uncomfortable, then I’ll stop. I promise, I’ll stop.”

Castiel was overwhelmed. His hands gripped Dean’s shoulders again as he swallowed thickly. “You can’t just stop loving someone, Dean.”

“Says who? I’ll be the first one to do it.”

Cas exhaled shakily, pressing a hesitant chaste kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “I don’t  _want_  you to do it.”

“You don’t… You want me to love you?”

Castiel bit his lip. “I can’t- I’m not comfortable with… everything, as of yet, but I can-”

“No, Cas, everything at your pace. Everything-” Dean let loose a happy breath, smiling brilliantly as he kissed Castiel hard and deep, feeling the same smile against his mouth as they pressed and pushed against each other, Cas taking the lead.

“Come.”

The blue-eyed being, tugged Dean toward the windowsill, grabbing the blankets and pillows from his bed as they walked over. Unceremoniously dropping everything to the ground, Castiel sat back, tugging Dean down with him as they cuddled and whispered and watched the sky, sneaking little kisses and big ones and all the kinds in between in there place almost under the stars.

The sun was beginning to rise when Dean turned to Cas, brushing his fingers along beautiful inky feathers. “Let me be your wings,” he whispered.

Castiel felt his heart skip a beat as he leaned forward, looking into the mesmerizing green of Dean’s eyes. This was not just a confession of love, this was an invitation. This was Dean asking for his company, always and forever, outside this room and this hour and this garden. Pressing their moths together in a tender kiss, Cas pulled away only to nudge Dean’s nose with his own, smiling contentedly.

“Whatever makes you mine.”


End file.
